


the man who saved the world

by remy (iamremy)



Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [15]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ficlet, M/M, Pining, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 22:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: anonymous asked:Jonmund 24 pleasePrompt is "agony". Tormund watches Jon leave for King's Landing, and wonders if he'll ever see him again.





	the man who saved the world

**Author's Note:**

> this moment was just so fuckign sad, holy shit. the ANGST. i can't.

Jon was always going to leave. Tormund has known that for a long time. But drinking and laughing with him, teasing him… for just a while, Tormund had let himself forget it. He’s just a man, after all. He’s got his weaknesses, buried deep down though they may be.

He just never thought a crow could become one of them, but this crow has, after all, always been different from the rest.

There is a quiet desperation to Jon’s grip when he embraces Tormund, for what is possibly the last time. Tormund grips back just as hard, cups the back of his head. He can tell Jon is as reluctant to let go as he is; he doesn’t want to go, he wants to stay here, in his home, where he belongs.

Tormund would keep him here forever, if he could; in this moment, where he is safe in his arms, solid and warm and _real_.

But the moment ends, and Jon lets go even as he looks like it’s killing him to do so, and Tormund lets him slip away even as he feels like his very soul is weighed down from the misery of it all. Jon is standing right there, and yet with every passing moment he seems further away, as if he’s lost to Tormund already, and Tormund can’t look away. He lets Jon give him Ghost, and he watches as he gets up on his horse, and he can’t look away, because he doesn’t know when he’ll see Jon again.

If he ever will.

The man who saved the world, thinks Tormund. The king who knelt after all. Off to fight someone else’s war, so far away from home that Tormund can’t even imagine it.

He’s not a stupid man. He’s lived a life filled with blood and battle. He knows what Jon’s chances are. He knows the look in a dead man’s eyes. He knows what a caged wolf looks like, what a crow without wings looks like.

With every second Jon gets further and further away from him, and Tormund can see the unhappy hunch of his shoulders even from where he’s standing. Jon looks woefully desolate like this, without Ghost by his side, without his people by his side, marching off to fire and blood and gods only know what else, and Tormund _can’t look away_.

Ghost whines, low in his throat. Tormund would, too, if he could. He wants nothing more than to go after Jon and bring him back, keep him here where he belongs, where he’s safe, where he can _breathe_. He wants nothing more than to go after him, protect him from whatever comes next - but it’s not his place, and the Southerners are his people even less than they are Jon’s, and he’s got a duty to the people he does belong to, the free folk of the North.

Jon is just a speck on the horizon now, and Tormund’s heart has never been heavier.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to know what you thought of it!
> 
> love,  
remy


End file.
